The Moments That Mean So Much
by Paige Darke
Summary: A series of interludes, vignetts, and missing scenes from EH&MSOM.
1. Beautiful

Legolas's Point Of View

She looks beautiful like this, in a summer dress of pale blue and her hair tied back rather neatly. The day is young. By the midday meal, it will be a mess, half of her pins gone and hanging in her face. She's kneeling down next to one of the young Hobbits -- Faramir Took, I believe -- carefully showing him how to worm his fishing hook. With a bean, of course, because she won't touch worms.

She's petrified of bugs.

Her long black hair is streaked with silver now, and there are faint lines around her eyes.

I swear she is beautiful as the day I first saw her. She stands, turns, and smiles at me. My heart nearly stops beating -- she is so beautiful. She kneels down and gives Faramir a hug before sending him off with Iariel's son.

I swear there are hundreds of children around here now. At least a few dozen. Faramir and Eowyn have several, at least three, and Boromir and Edana have four.

And when the Hobbits are here, we can forget about anything even resembling peace and quiet. Pippin and his wife, Diamond, I believe, have a few, at least compared to Sam and Rosie, who have a legion.

At least.

These little get-togethers that Arwen or Eowyn has every few years really wear on Kayli. She is not as young as she once was.

Although, most of the time, she does not show her years. Her hair, now far past her waist, is still more black then silver. The lines around her mouth and eyes are faint, but they are there. We have seen more than fifty years together. She is well past her seventieth year, though…as I said, she does not look it.

It is not enough. It will never be enough.

There are times when I contemplate her death, and I fear that I will not survive. The Eldar are hard to kill, but grief – if deep enough – can slay us as surely as an enemy blade. She is so much a part of me that I fear that when she is gone – when not even she can hold on any longer – I will fade and die, even though I have sworn to her that this will never happen.

She is my life.

A soft touch on my face pulls me from my melancholy thoughts, and I turn to face the object of them, smiling as best I can. She does not respond, and, in fact, her frown turns deeper. Her eyes are the same bright, deep blue-green they have always been, and they seem sad. "Stop," she murmurs, standing on her toes and kissing my cheek. "Don't think about it so much, Legolas. What happens, happens."

I brush a hand over her hair, turning my head in the direction the boys went. "I know, melisse," I say softly. "But…"

She tilts her head, staring at me with those wide, unflinching eyes, and I am once more reminded of her strength. "But?" she echoes.

"I will miss you," I say softly. "Your death…I don't know if I can face it."

"You're stronger than you think you are," she says softly. A smile quirks at her lips. "Besides, if you up and die after me, I'm going to be pissed, all right? And you'll hear about it in the afterlife, believe me."

"Elves and humans don't go to the same place," I reply.

"When has something little like _that_ stopped me?" she asks teasingly, her smile lighting up her whole face.

I smile. I cannot stop it. Somehow, I am able to believe that she can defeat such an obstacle, even one placed by the Valar themselves. I brush a hand through her hair, and then I slide an arm around her waist to hold her close to me. She relaxes, and I take the opportunity to swing my other arm under her knees and sweep her off her feet.

She laughs, and the sound surrounds me, warming my heart.

We still have time, and I will not let a single minute slip through my fingers. I will be there when she passes from this life, and, even though I know there will never be another in my life like her – such a thing is impossible, for the Valar do not duplicate their miracles – I will live it anyway.

Because she has asked it of me.

End

I've missed you all, and I'm very, very sorry that this isn't the next chapter of HP&TME, but I've had computer issues. Actually, my computer IS my issue. Thank you for your patience.


	2. Aftermath

_Aftermath_

Legolas is troubled when he comes down to breakfast. He doesn't say anything, but I've known him all his life and a large part of my own, and I can read him as easily as my father could read me.

The Dwarf and I are the only ones up to breakfast this early, although I did see Kayli slip out the kitchen door about an hour ago.

"What troubles you, son?" I ask.

He simply glances at me, and then shrugs and looks away. "'Tis nothing, Adar," he says.

"You lie," I say.

"And not very well," Gimli adds.

He smiles – but it is a twisted, bitter mockery of a smile. "She refused me," he says quietly.

Gimli and I both stop moving. My hand is poised halfway to my wine, and Gimli has just stuffed a chunk of bread into his mouth. His fingers are still at his lips, apparently stuck there.

At any other moment, this would be funny.

"I…beg your pardon?" I ask.

Legolas shrugs and drops into a chair, pouring a glass of wine and draining it before pouring another.

My son is getting drunk at the breakfast table. I'm fairly certain I raised all four better than this, but these are distressing circumstances.

"I asked her to marry me," he said, voice oddly flat. "She said no."

"She said…no?" Gimli says. "Are ye certain, lad? Just no? A flat-out refusal? 'Cause that doesn't make any sense."

He smiles bitterly. "Nay. She had to...think."

Gimli stares at me blankly. "Think about what?" he asks, obviously confused.

Legolas shrugs and drains another glass of wine. "She says she loves me, but that she has to ... think. She does not think it is wise."

Gimli and I exchange another blank look.

"I don't understand women," Gimli says finally.

"Nay," he says softly. "Nor do I."


	3. Food Fight!

"You want me to go _where_?" Kayli demands, spinning around to face the Elf.

"Ye cannot be serious!" I say. "Ye want to take a Dwarf back to that dank, tree-infested place?"

"Creepy, dark, dank, tree-infested place," Kayli adds.

The Elf laughs. Kayli narrows her eyes and plants her hands on her hips, glaring at him, putting her full force of mind behind the look. And I must say, her will is a force to be reckoned with. Only the fair Lady Galadriel has any hopes of competing with that look, and even she would have a tough time.

Legolas, however, simply laughs. "You will be fine, melisse," he says, as if that should reassure her. He sends a look in my direction, and even a clueless Dwarf like me can see the laughter in that gaze. "And you, as well, Master Dwarf," he teases. "My bow is at your service, and all the protection two such delicate souls shall need."

Kayli and I exchange glances. "Get him," we say together.

The Elf laughs. Eowyn comes into the room, stops, and looks back in forth between the three of us. Kayli's hand is currently buried in a bowl of flour, since we're bakin' a cake for the Steward's birthday.

Or something. Actually, I'm not entirely sure what the lass was up to when Legolas drug me down here.

The White Lady arches an eyebrow at us, and plants her hands on her hips in a fair imitation of Kayli's stance. Her expression reminds me of my Elvish friend's betrothed.

Aye, and that was a shock as well, for I never truly expected him to get off his Elvish ass and ask the lass, for he was petrified of her reaction.

Legolas laughs and wraps his arms around the lass, takin' the opportunity to steal a kiss.

She shoves a handful of flour into his face, and sends him stumbling backwards. Eowyn claps a hand over her mouth and I double over laughing.

His jaw drops, and Kayli starts to laugh. He looks thoroughly ridiculous. The lass claps a hand over her mouth, still gigglin'. "Oh, god, you look so...so silly," she says. "Oh, god, Legolas, I'm sorry!"

His eyes narrow, then he smiles charmingly. "'Tis well, melisse. I suppose I deserves that." He bows courteously...just before his hand dips into the flour and he tosses it into her face.

She splutters.

"Oh, enough!" Eowyn cries. "Stop! You'll make a mess!"

"You're going to pay for that!" Kayli says, and chases the Elf around the room.

All is well, with that at least, 'til the lass hits me with a stray shot of flour. Then the battle has truly begun.

It ends with the lass gigglin' like a possessed thing, leaning heavily on Legolas's chest. Her hair is white, from root to tip, and her face is smeared with different colors -- yellow and orange and red, from the frostings and fillings. The Elf's hair is filled with the same concoctions, as is Lady Eowyn's, and I've no idea when she joined the fray.

And me own beard is white as snow. There's flour up my nose, lemon frosting in my hair, and my armor is covered in raspberry seeds.

Strange lot, this. How I ever ended up traveling with such a bunch is beyond me.

"What in Arda happened in here?" Boromir demands, appearin' in the doorway. "Have you both gone mad?"

"Aye," Legolas says, kissing the lass and hauling her to her feet. "But I've no idea what madness possessed the women."

Kayli pokes him in the chest. "We were trying to bake you a cake," she says, then shrugs. "It didn't work out. We were going to make cookies, but Arwen and I ate all the chocolate, so she went to get more, and then these two showed up, and I was going to make you a cake, but Gimli's wearing all the flour and the frosting is in Legolas's hair."

He gapes at us, then throws his head back and laughs. "I do appreciate the thought," he manages, before laughing harder. "Who won?"

"Legolas," Lady Eowyn says.

"Only because he cheats!" Kayli protests.

Boromir arches an eyebrow at the Elf, who grins and shrugs shamelessly. "She's ticklish," he says, and sends the Steward into another fit of hysterics.

Elves and humans. By the stones, bloody incomrehensible creatures. Give me a nice, simple Orc any day.

_End_


	4. Musings

Kayli is nervous -- I can tell simply by the way she tugs at her tunic and toys with the buckles on her swordbelt, as if she's uncomfortable. She has never seen all of my family in one place. She gets along excellently with my father, surprisingly enough.

Actually -- although I'm sure she doesn't know this, as she fears him still -- Adar adores her. She reminds him greatly of our naneth, and he loved Nana with all his heart. I remember her little, but what I do remember is clear, and always shall be. The memories of the Elves are long and clear.

She had beautiful eyes, as I recall. Clear and blue, like the summer sky. She had dark hair, like Eriadhras and Derinsul, and she was tall and thin, willowy, extraordinarily beautiful. Out of all of us, it is Eriadhras who resembles her the greatest.

She had a sweet laugh, and a beautiful voice when she sang, which was often.

Ada says I inherited her voice as well as her eyes.

Kayli certainly seems to think that my voice is decent enough -- she has me sing to her often enough.

Although there is no physical resemblance between Kayli and Naneth, there is certainly resemblance in their spirits. Naneth was a warrior, as Kayli is. She was also not one to take orders, even from Adar. She made her own destiny, and took orders only from herself.

'Twas always the little things that so bothered her, I recall. Such as her hair. Even though she and my father had been wed for nearly a century by the time I was born, she rarely wore it bound, though married women are always supposed to bind their hair, whether they be human or Elvish. Naneth did enjoy bucking tradition.

Kayli rarely binds her hair, either. Unless I or Iariel see to it before she can flee the room.

"Relax, child," Ada says firmly, pulling me from my thoughts. He reaches out a hand and clasps hers, the one that is twisting her ring about her finger. "If you do not cease, you are going to break your skin. 'Twould hardly do for your sisters to see your ring the first time covered in blood."

Kayli makes a face and sighs. "Yes, sire," she says, automatically, and drops her hands. Not even a minute later, she's adjusting her swordbelt for the thousandth time.

Gimli sighs behind me. "Lass -- enough. Yer not the only one worried about this trip, you know." I can almost see my Dwarven friend glaring at my father's back. "Never in memory has a Dwarf been welcomed in the halls of the Elven King." He snorts. "Locked in the dungeons, right enough."

"We don't have dungeons," Adar says mildly. "'Twas a cellar."

Kayli laughs quietly. "Even better," she mutters.

I reach out and take her hand. "They'll love you," I say, trying to sound reassuring.

Eriadhras's wife, Melna, will like her well enough, I suppose, but the dragon Jadriel married is intimidating. She has very certain ideas about how a lady of the House of Oropher should act, and holds herself very properly.

She and Kayli are not going to get along, although I find myself eager for their first confrontation.

And when they meet, I have a suspicion it will be worth the wait.

_End_


	5. Spider

A blood-curding scream snaps me out of reverie.

Kayli is scrambling back against the tree, staring at an approaching Mirkwood spider with enormous eyes.

Adar is already on his feet, bow in hand. I could live another three thousand years and never match Ada's sheer speed, although I am not far behind him, and Gimli is scrambling for his axe.

Kayli has not even reached for a blade -- she is far too frightened, and I have never seen her in this state. It worries me, and it frightens me, because my wife is not one to freeze up with terror.

Adar fires an arrow, aiming for the beast's throat, and I aim my own for one of it's eyes. It roars in pain and swipes out with one of its massive legs -- directly for Kayli. She gathers her wits enough to drop and roll out of its path, and comes up with a blade in her hand.

"Aim for the legs," Adar calls to Gimli, and the Dwarf nods, rushing forward. He gets a leg as Adar and I loose more arrows, and it lurches forward, ducks its head, and snaps its pinchers at Kayli. She ducks under, raking her knife across its throat and belly.

It shrieks in pains, and Adar and I rush in to finish it as Kayli runs to get free.

When it is slain, I turn to Kayli, who is staring at her hands with something akin to horror. She is covered nearly to the elbows in black ichor, and seems thoroughly disgusted.

Gimli wraps an arm around her waist. "Ye did well, lass," he says. "I was hopin' you'd stay frozen -- at least then I could have come to protect ye, instead of havin' to fight that bloody nasty thing."

Kayli laughs. "Right, Gimli," she says. "Like you didn't want to add a Mirkwood spider notch to your axe."

He chuckles. "Come on, lass -- I saw a river not far, and I need to wash this foul stuff from my axe."


	6. Home

_Home_

She is nearly to her eighty-second year. We have had over sixty years together, yet it is not long enough.

There is a part of me, a part in my heart that knows she _is_ my heart, that tells me it will never be long enough. She is the center of my world, and my reason for being.

If I told her these things, she would laugh and accuse me of over-stating her importance, say that I will get along just fine without her. She has made me promise that I will not linger on her death, that I will not let her be the end of me, that I will move on, perhaps find someone else to love.

I have promised to live, but I have not promised to find someone else to share at least of few years of the eternity that stretches, endless, unbroken, and lonely, before me. That would be a lie, and I do not lie to her. I cannot.

She is...she is smaller now, fragile, the life in her seeming to have dimmed in the past months. Her time grows close. She is as strong-willed as ever, seemingly unafraid.

I am terrified, shaken by the thought of life without her. It does not seem livable.

She has not left our rooms this morning, nor dressed herself. She sits by the window, her white hair lose over her shoulders, her blue eyes -- still clear and straight, still able to see through me -- misted with thought and memory as she gazes over Minas Tirith. There are flowers on the table, a sure sign that Eldarion has been through earlier this morning. He comes by every morning, with fresh flowers, to bring her news of the city and its inhabitants. She never grows weary of these visits, and is very fond of him, and I know that part of his fondness for her stems from the fact that she sees Eldarion as precisely that -- Eldarion. She does not see a Prince, who should be forgiven all his trespasses and wrong-doings, who should be coddled and kept away from the harsher things of life. She sees the boy she helped raise, whose scraped knees she bandages, whose tears she dried, who she helped shape into the man he became. She sees that, but she also sees the man.

She turns, and smiles gently. "You're morbid this morning, my love," she says softly, more to disguise that her voice has grown weak than from any real need for quiet. Kayli has never had a need for quiet.

"Am I?"

She nods firmly, then leans her head back and closes her eyes. "Yes. It makes me tired." A ghost of a smile. "Not that it takes much to get me tired these days. Don't worry, this old woman you tied yourself to won't hang around too much longer."

"Don't say that," I whisper, almost panicked by the mere thought. "Kayli, _melisse_, don't ever say that."

"Why? It's true. The sooner you face that facts, love, the sooner you'll realize it. And the sooner you can come to grips with it. I'm dying."

I close my eyes and turn my face away. "I know. You have some time yet."

"Do I?"

I nod. "Aye. Not long, but...long enough. Long enough to take care of whatever it is you want to take care of."

She turns her face up to me, and I notice for the first time there are tears in her eyes. "Legolas?"

"Yes, _melisse_?"

"Take me home." She touches her long, pale hair. "Take me back to my rooms in the palace. I want to look out at the city."

"The Healers say --"

"To hell with the Healers," she snaps, a flicker of her old temper returning. "Fuck them. If I'm going to die, I'm going to die in my own bed, not surrounded by this --" She makes a rather rude, Gondorrian gesture to encompass the room in the Healer's Tower. "This nonsense."

Ah, that was far politer than what I thought she was going to say.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes. By the Valar, Legolas,_ please_. Let me go home."

-- End


	7. McDonald's

_McDonald's_

"Oooh," Elladan said, swerving around a semi like a NASCAR driver. "Food."

Legolas closed his eyes and gripped the door handle. "You cannot call anything they serve in those places _food_."

"Sure you can," Elladan said, changing lanes, neatly cutting off a Ford Explorer and swerving into the exit. "Besides, you don't know what it means when it says 'food' on the signs."

"Yes, I do. It means those awful fast food places."

"You're spoiled," Elladan said firmly. "You're used to living on your father's private little island and getting the good stuff."

"Yes, I am."

"There's a Perkins," Elrohir said.

"Too slow," Elladan replied, and pulled into the McDonald's parking lot. "We want _fast_ food."

"That is not food," Legolas argued.

"Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled," was the twin's reply, before he bounded energetically out of the car and practically skipped for the door. Elrohir shrugged and followed.

He watched with distaste as the sons of Elrond loaded up on fast food. French fries that had probably never seen potatoes, cheeseburgers that had probably never seen any part of a cow. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and ordered a salad.

"What are you, an Elf or a rabbit?" Elladan asked in an undertone. "It's not like it's going to hurt us."

He shook his head, glancing up when one of the employees came up to clock out. Her hair was stuffed up under the hat, which was hiding her eyes. She turned and spoke to one of the managers, then laughed. The laugh seemed familiar, for some reason.

The manager laughed, as well. "Go on, Kayli, get out of here. Enjoy your two days off."

He shook his head as Elladan and Elrohir gathered up their...food and headed back out to the car. Coincidence. Kayli was a common enough name in these times.

As they walked back out to their vehicle, he saw the girl walking to hers. She tugged off her hat, tossed it into the passenger seat, talking on her cell phone. She had large, beautiful blue eyes.

Familiar eyes. Hadn't he seen ones just like them for more than sixty years?

She laughed and tugged the ties out of her hair, spilling it down around her face. He went very still, just staring at her, his expression stunned.

"Legolas? Legolas, what's wrong with you?" Elrohir demanded. "We've got to make up for lost time. Will you drive?"

Elladan thumped his brother. "You are not letting the Granny Prince drive!"

He shoved away from them and started towards her. Elladan grabbed his arm. "Uh, hello? Your Highness? Where are you going?"

"'Dan, stop him," Elrohir said urgently, trying to unload his armful of food into the car. "Don't let him near the girl!"

"What would he want with the girl? He doesn't even look at girls!"

The girl laughed again, raking her fingers back through her hair. Elladan went very still. "Legolas, no. You cannot," he snapped, dropping into Sindarin.

"Release me," he snapped. "Don't you know who that is?"

"Aye, we do," Elladan said. "Which is why you cannot do this."

"I cannot spare her? Look at her! She is not prepared for the horrors she'll face!"

"She is made of stronger stuff than that," Elrohir said firmly, gripping his other arm. "As you very well know."

"Release me."

"No," Elladan snapped, and thumped his forehead. "Think, _mellon_. You wish to spare her, but for all we know 'twas having her aid which turned the tides of the war against Sauron. It could have been her presence that granted us victory. If you spare her the horrors, you may also grant Sauron his victory."

"And cost us all our lives," Elrohir added. "Think of the Kayli you knew, the one you loved so much. Would she ask this of you?"

"Of course not."

"Are you so desperate to forget her, then?" Elrohir asked harshly.

Legolas's head jerked around, his eyes meeting his friends. Elrohir was almost grateful to see the rage in them. "How can you ask me that?"

"Is that not what you are trying to do? If you spare her all the horrors, you also spare her all the happiness. She loved you, _mellon,_ and, to her, that more than made up for any hardship. For all we know, were we to leave her in this world, she would die."

He relaxed, tugging his arms from their grasp. "Aye. I understand." He gazed at her a moment longer, drinking in the woman he would never see again. "Let us go."

He got into the car, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes, pretending he did not hear their sighs of relief.

Or Elladan's mutter of "Sure would have been embarrassing to get arrested for beating him within an inch of his life in a McDonald's parking lot."

_End_


End file.
